Nothing to Say
by kingtetsu
Summary: A smooth as hell Draco, a pretty green apple, and a very confused Harry.


It was the Christmas holidays. The air was cold and murky, and dark, foreboding clouds littered the misty sky.

Even then, a tall pale-faced, pointy-chinned boy named Draco Malfoy was walking down the dark recesses of Knockturn Alley, pondering the great task that had been assigned to him by the Dark Lord.

_It was an honor,_ he told himself. _An honor to serve the Dark Lord and one way to bring the Malfoy name back to the light. _

He was on his way to Borgin and Burkes to make sure that fool Borgin… or was it Burke? was doing his job. He scoffed as he was passed by a staggering yellow-toothed witch. The wind blew old trinkets in the doorways creating a dull humming sound.

He was just passing an old black shop (not that black wasn't normal, but this shop seemed older than normal) with old dusty curtains hiding half of the what was displayed in the window. A thin layer of dirt covered the doorway, window, curtains, and mat.

He was about to continue on when he saw a flash of green. Curious, and longing to see the green again, he stopped abruptly, causing an suspicious-looking hooded man to bump into him, but he paid no heed to his growls.

He took hold of the dirty door handle, grimacing in its filthiness and forced himself inside. The walls and floor were, if possible even worse than the outside covered with at least an inch of dirt. Then he saw it again, a flash of green. Like a man possessed, he lunged towards the table, his grey eyes lit and wild. Then, he saw it for the first time in all its glory: an apple.

A green granny smith apple. _It's beautiful,_ he gasped to himself (because Malfoys don't show surprise on their features). It was indeed a beautiful apple. If awards were given out for the best-looking apple, this one would win 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, prizes if not 5th and 6th to boot. It was green. A beautiful green. Not slytherin green, god no! No! This was a luscious, appetizing green. A green that lured even the best to the most remote corner. The skin was smooth, and had no blemishes only adding to its perfection. It was perfectly ripe and had a delicate stem curved delicately with a leaf the exact shade of the apple perched upon it. It was perfect it even smelled… Smelled? Oh, he had to smell it. He grabbed the apple and sniffed. Oh, it even smelled perfect!

He examined it before a smirk planted itself on his lips. "Do you believe in love at first sight or do I have to walk by again?' and then winked, a wink that had taken years to perfect.

"Why, yes you might," it responded. This time he gasped, the apple it… it responded. Shock was written clearly across his features. And it was a girl! Could this day get better? It was then that he noticed the price tag: 100 galleons. BEST DEAL OF HIS LIFE!

He rushed to the cashier, quickly slapped down the money and apparated away before he could see an evil smirk spread across the face of the cashier.

It had been a month.

One month since he had made the best purchase of his life.

He was at Hogwarts in him dorm and couldn't help but glance every minute or so to his suitcase. Within the suitcase there was a bag, within that bag there was a puzzle box, within the puzzle box there was another box, and so there were five more boxes. Within the last box was, yes you guessed it, another box.

This box was not like the other boxes. It was a fancy one made of the best cedar wood and had fancy decorations and was bejeweled with emeralds. Within this box was an apple. It wasn't just any apple… THE apple that had stolen his heart; it was the love of his life.

Oh, how he loved his apple. He told it everything, and it understood! Not only that, but it was the most beautiful apple he had ever seen. Its blemishless green skin was that beyond perfection!

What added to the deal was that the apple talked to him. Actual responses and what was more…. it understood him. Unlike, Crabbe and Goyle who were thickheads beyond imagining or Pansy Parkinsons, who often flung herself at him. No, _she_ was unlike the rest of them. _She_ was different. Not once during his relationship with his apple did he question the fact that… it was…. well, to put it, frankly…. an apple.

Draco had to admit though, it hadn't been easy. He had worked day and night to make the apple happy. Finally after weeks of talking and understanding each other, the apple had admitted its love for Draco. He had been ecstatic and had arranged a quick wedding. He found one of the apple's relatives (Granny Smith) and she was a registered minister. In a quiet ceremony, in the middle of the night, Apple and Draco were wed.

He now had added the apple to his daily ritual. Every morning he got up and carefully washed and polished his apple to perfection before tediously putting it back into its box. The apple was a wonderful part of his life.

Today, however, was different, he used various nail polish removers and what-nots to polish his apple, telling it that today was a special day. _I've perfected it! I've perfected it!_ was all the apple heard for the hour that various liquids were poured and lathered onto its skin. Finally, Draco tucked the apple delicately into its box, put it in his bag and started making his way out. He was stopped by a rather bothersome Pansy Parkinson, who he promptly shoved past. The apple couldn't tell where she was being taken but she did know that Draco was happy. Very happy!

How, you might ask. The answer was quite simple. You see…. frankly put… well… Draco was skipping.

The world has ended! A Malfoy? SKIPPING? It's an atrocious act of merriment that isn't usually seen on the pale countenance of a Malfoy.

Draco stopped at what was presumably the seventh floor and entered through a door that had appeared out of nowhere, but he didn't seem at all surprised. He was in a room full of discarded thingamabobbers, misplaced gadgets, lost items and broken toys. He made his way to the vanishing cabinet that was tucked away behind a piece of cloth. He carefully took out the apple and started talking animatedly.

"Apply, my dear, this is the vanishing cabinet!" Draco exclaimed. "And I have fixed it!" He changed the pitch of his voice to match his beloved Apple's: "Fixed it, you might ask? You say that this contraption was broken?"

Returning to his regular voice, he continued, "Why, yes darling, and I've fixed it, just for you, and to show you how well it has been fixed, I'm going to test it with you!" The Apple never thought that would mean that she would be put into the box. No, Draco knew that she had a phobia of cabinets in general, and claustrophobia, and pyrophobia, and darkness… Darkness enveloped the world.

Meanwhile, Draco remained blissfully (ignorance is bliss, huh?) unaware of his beloved's discomfort and worry. He closed the cabinet door and heard the faint _zap!_ Next thing he knew, _zap!_ he heard it again. Gleefully, he opened the door, but the sight that he beheld has that which would haunt him for the rest of his life.

**Someone had taken a bite out of his dear beloved apple.**

Shock enveloped his features, his face warped in fear and worry. "NO!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the walls of the room. The skin, the perfect skin of his apple had been punctured. "APPLY!" he sobbed, tears streaming down his face. "Come back, PLEASE!"

But no response came, for his apple was mute and unseeing.

"MY LOVE!" he bellowed atrociously, "MY DEAR! COME BACK!"

Then his voice was a whisper and he was whimpering in shock… "you p-promised we would always b-be t-together!" He was sputtering in his agony. He felt as he had been torn apart by an invisible force. The other half of his soul gone. He fell backwards onto the floor gasping in pain muttering "no, no, no," as if he were living a nightmare.

"Magic," he muttered. "she needs magic." His hand shaking he muttered under his breath. "Reparo."

Nothing happened. A new wave of panic swelled up inside of his. _Reparo! Reparo! REPARO!_ Not only did this not succeed, it made matters worse. As he muttered the last reparo, the delicate leaf and stem of his precious apple fell onto the table on which it sat. "NO!" he yelled. "Magic!" he mumbled. "I need magic!"

Then a stroke of genius struck him. The house elves. He needed the house elves! Putting aside his pride and his general dislike for the creatures, he did the one thing he thought could help his love. He grabbed his beloved apple, abandoning everything else and ran.

He bumped into countless friends, acquaintances, and enemies on his way, but he never ceased running. He ran and ran until he reached the painting of a fruit bowl and then he did the unimaginable. He tickled the pear, glared at the laughing banana, and was laughed at the bright red apple that was mocking him on the tapestry. He bolted into the kitchens only to realize the elves weren't there.

Almost unconsciously, he set down his precious apple on the table, gently patting its head, and morosely setting the stem and leaf beside it before he started running around frantically in search of the elves. He screamed for them, called them names, even ran past a few but didn't notice, but to no avail no elves came to his help.

Finally, his shoulder slumped in defeat, he walked back to the table to find his apple, only to see that the stem and leaf were there, but the Apple, his beloved wife, Apple, wasn't there. Only then, did he notice the figure in front of him.

He didn't process the look of surprise that crossed Harry Potter's features when he observed the almost maniacal look in his eyes. He barely heard the "Are you okay, Malfoy?" that he asked loudly, but to Draco, was no more than a whisper. The only thing he registered was that Harry Potter was holding his Apple. He was holding Apple Malfoy, but that wasn't all no! The apple was dripping juice all over his hand and no longer was there one bite taken out of it. NO! Now there were several bites taken out of the apple. His grip tightened on his wand. The next thing he knew, he had blasted the glasses off of his rival's face. "Potter…" He growled. "I will never forgive you!"

However, Harry was preoccupied with finding his glasses, and presumably ignored the infuriated boy. Fuming at the disacknowledgement of his statement, Draco flicked his wand again with a quick command, and the table beside his opponent burst into flames.

"Wh-what are you trying to pull, Malfoy?" The confused boy finally found his glasses and put them on. He finally noticed the table, which was burning down in flames, and looked at his adversary's unexplainable expression. He realized this was a serious matter and drew his wand out.

"I shall contested by you no more, for this shall be your death!" With fiery passion overflowing in his stormy gray eyes, he leaped towards his contender and shot more flames. The bespectacled student quickly dodged out of reflex which could be owed towards his many encounters with the Dark Lord himself. His countenance showed nothing but perplexed confusion.

The fire started to rage out of control and had somehow formed a ring around the two enemies. It turned out to create a wonderful lighting that seemed to bring out the worst in both boys. Stormy grey met grassy green and there was a flame of anger that sparked them to make the next move in the eminent wizard's duel. Later, if one were to look back at the event, they would wonder at how strange it was that two rivals could induce so much strength out of the other. And all over an apple…!

Harry tried to put out the fire with his Aguamenti spell. Realizing it wasn't working, he came to his senses and decided to focus on his enemy.

Meanwhile, Draco was panicking, literally flying around the room, shooting curses towards his opponents' general direction and searching for his precious apple. He knew, it had not spoken since it was bitten into by that Harry Potter...! He could just imagine it now, screaming for his help.

His mind was boggled, and his imagination out of control. His brain showed him his apple, a poor, trapped princess, with long flowing blonde hair and green eyes that complemented her skin complexion. She was trapped in a majestic room in an old tower.

A black dragon with evil red eyes (Potter, obviously) was guarding it maliciously, flaming anyone who came his way.

And of course, Draco was the handsome Prince Charming. With his flowing golden locks and stormy grey eyes; he thought that he made the perfect prince, well-suited for his matching beauty of a princess. He rode on a white horse, and bore a heroic look on his face as he faced off with the black dragon with his giant gold-plated sword.

Of course, this was all in his head.

The noble prince charged with his wand shooting a small flock of yellow canaries at the red and gold dragon, who retaliated with a simple Shield Charm. The fire surrounding them grew larger, and suddenly, there was a flurry of action.

Draco shouted several curses in succession that had Harry running around in circles deflecting the various spells. Harry couldn't even pause to take a breath, because by the time he was facing Draco again, he had to dive to the side to avoid yet another spell. Outside their ring of fire, house elves were growing tentacles and long teeth due to misfired spells, that Harry hadn't been able to deflect. The rest of the house elves were running amok in the disorderly chaos.

In the chaos Harry yelped, dodging another carefully aimed spell, "What is this? Is this your revenge because of the whole _Sectumsempra_ debacle? Because I'm sorry." He sounded tired and almost desperate for the spells to stop. He barely had the opportunity to fire spells back at the avenging angel. He snorted to himself _what angel?_ Harry yelped in surprise as another spell came way too close comfort shearing a lock of his messy hair off. He watched the lock of hair fall almost dramatically.

"Oh, that's it Malfoy! Prepare for hell!" Harry said charging, brandishing his wand, like an angry Hermione.

Draco smirked, as if this was exactly what he wanted, "Only if I can drag you down with me." He fired another spell and soon it was a duel of wits and trying to catch each other off guard.

"_Expelliarmus!" _Harry shouted, in an attempt to disarm Malfoy, who easily deflected it.

"_Flipendo," _Draco shouted back knocking Harry onto the floor

Reveling in his small victory, Draco barely heard Harry scream "_Impedimenta!"_ Draco felt himself being knocked over a chair and then onto the floor. It was then that he saw her. Apple. She was in the worst state he could imagine. She was being _cooked._ He was so terrified for the love of his life, that he could barely process the terror.

"What the hell, Malfoy?" Malfoy barely heard Harry who was standing behind him as he reached into the fire to save the apple.

He brought it out barely noticing that he was holding a burning apple, all that registered in his mind that it was _his_ Apple. He vaguely felt the rushing of water over his hand and the aguamenti, but he was in shock. The green skin of his Apple no longer had its shimmering quality. It was black and burnt and felt rough under his fingertips. He felt tears start trickling down face; nothing else in the world existed but the apple, his Apple. He felt utmost despair and a sob escaped his lips.

"Ummmm, Malfoy?" Harry sounded very unnerved, first Malfoy had attacked him, unprovoked, now he was crying over an apple?

Harry's voice snapped him out of his mourning, he felt as if he had been awakened, for one purpose only. To get revenge for his dead wife.

"You killed her," Draco said standing up and staring Harry in face. His eyes reflected the fires burning around them. No longer were they grey, but instead they were fire, red with rage. "You. Killed. My. Wife."

Harry started backing up in fear "Now, now Malfoy," Harry said edging close to the edge of the fire "let's be reasonable. You aren't married." That turned out to be the wrong thing to say. Before Harry knew it, he was running in circles around the edge of the fire, hotly pursued by an angry husband out for revenge. Spells were fired. Curses shouted. House elves screamed, yet the ring of fire raged on. Everything that had been in the circle with them at this point had been destroyed. Incinerated would be the correct term.

Finally, Harry's legs gave way, which he accounted for a jelly legs jinx. He lay sprawled on the floor, weak and tired, as a vengeful Draco towered over him. "That's what you get-"

'WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" Professor McGonagall asked storming in "HOUSE ELVES WHY HAS DINNER NOT BEEN SERVED? CHILDREN ARE STARVING IN THE HALLS AND-". The sight she saw was like nothing she had ever seen in all her years of teaching. The house elves were running about in panic and there was a dangerous ring of fire crawling along the floor. Professor McGonagall immediately distinguished the flames with a wave of her wand.

"Mr. Malfoy," she taking in the scene of a crazed Draco pointing his wand a half-alive Harry, "what is the meaning of this?"

"He killed her," he said looking up with a raging fire in his eyes. His hand was shaking in a combination of shock and anger.

"That is a very serious accusation, Mr. Malfoy. Who exactly did he kill?" Professor McGonagall asked in shock.

Draco's eyes lost their fire and he looked around frantically. He lowered his wand before dropping it in the floor and started searching for his burned apple. "Apple? Apple?" he started screaming anxiously.

By this time Harry had stood up on weak legs and walked over to the Professor. "I think he's lost it Professor," Harry whispered to Professor McGonagall.

"I think a trip to St. Mungo's might be in order," Professor McGonagall agreed, looking worriedly at Draco.

Then Draco gave out a cry of joy "I found you!" He held up the burned apple and brought to his lips. His Apple. Before bursting into tears due to the pain of his loss. "Oh! I love you so!"

"He needs St. Mungo's," Professor McGonagall reaffirmed.

It hadn't been long since Draco had been released from St. Mungo's. By that time the enter school had heard about him. Not just that he was in the hospital but _why._ Never had he experienced such humiliation. As if the therapy he had to go through wasn't enough. He hadn't been able to look at an apple for weeks without crying and after that phase, he couldn't look at an apple without breaking out into pick-up lines.

When he got back to school, the first person he saw. A _Hufflepuff_ of all people took a green apple out of their bag, stared at it adoringly, and said in a very high-pitched voice: _Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?_ Draco had been fuming for the rest of day. The rest of the week went the same as his first encounter with random apples being shoved in his face. They weren't even _green_ apples, they were red! Red like Gryffindor, he shivered. All apples put shame to _Apple._ His Apple, he thought morosefully one morning at breakfast.

He thought he heard his name being called and glanced up, before realizing he had been imagining things. Then he looked up again as he saw a flash of green in front of him. It couldn't be. There sitting tantalizingly in front of him, was an Apple. Not just any apple, she looked just like Apple. His Apple.

Somewhere in the back of his head, his subconscious groaned _not again_. But on the outside he gave the apple his flirtiest grin and whispered (due to the plethora of people around him) "Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?"


End file.
